


When Your Legs Don't Work Like They Used to Before

by acedott



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Guilty Castiel, M/M, Permanent Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5850061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acedott/pseuds/acedott





	When Your Legs Don't Work Like They Used to Before

“I hate this friggin’ thing,” Dean grumbled, thudding his fists on his wheelchair’s armrests. “Couldn’t they have just amputated my legs and given me prosthetics?”

“Dean, you heard the doctor,” Cas said, not glancing up from the wheelchair maintenance manual. “Because you’ve been injured in the knees and torso so often, your knees wouldn’t be able to support prosthetics and your body wouldn’t be able to provide enough blood flow to heal the wound properly anyway. Besides, there’s no guarantee your prosthetics would be immune to magical or demonic influences.”

“Right, Cas, because demons are just itching to control my legs. They could make me _skip_ places, and we all know how skipping causes the apocalypse,” Dean replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I don’t know, Dean!” Cas snapped, throwing the manual down on the counter he had been leaning on. “You have consistently ignored all medical advice, so I thought something supernatural might matter in some way, especially since I am useless."

“Oh hey, no, c’mon,” Dean said, rolling himself over to Cas and taking his hand. “This isn't not your fault, man. I don’t blame you for this at all.”

“You should,” he responded, snatching his hand away. “If I weren’t human, I could heal you and kill the thing that did this to you. But like this, I’m...” He trailed off and simply looked at Dean sorrowfully, his eyes even larger than normal with guilt.

“Hey,” Dean said forcefully, taking his hand again. “You’ve already healed me a lot. I would’ve been dead years ago if it weren’t for you. Actually, I’d still be in hell if it weren’t for you. You ‘gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition’ after all,” he continued, dropping his voice in an imitation of Cas at the last part.

The ghost of a smile crossed Cas’s face, but was gone in an instant. “I suppose so.”

Dean rubbed his eyelids. “You picked up this whole Winchester guilt thing a little too well, man. There are way more benefits to you being human than an angel.”

“Really?” he asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “There is something more beneficial than me being able to kill demons with a touch? Or having angelic strength?”

“Well, now you’re immune to angel-proofing spells and seals. Plus angel detectors,” Dean pointed out, hoping the last one would get at least a smile.

No such luck. “Those don’t exist, Dean. And you and Sam would be able to get past them if they did, so you don’t need me.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s just a benefit for me then.”

Cas looked at him suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

“You being human and all means that you and I are gonna get old together,” Dean replied tenderly, rubbing soothing circles against the back of Cas’s hand and looking him straight in the eye.

A soft smile emerged on Cas’s face. “You plan for us to be together that long?” he asked shyly.

_I plan for us to be together forever_ , Dean thought. Out loud, he said, “Oh yeah. We’ll both be wrinkly, funky-smelling, white-haired old men together. We can complain about all these whippersnapper hunters, bitch about arthritis, and talk about the weather all the damn time. Maybe we’ll even set Sam up with some other nice fuddy-duddy.”

“I’d like that. But you’ll have to massage my arthritic feet and back,” Cas teased.

“Deal,” Dean murmured, pulling Cas down for a passionate kiss.

Cas futilely waved his hand in the air, looking for a chair to give the kiss a better angle, but stopped when Dean moved his hand up into Cas’s hair. More than a little weak in the knees, he lowered himself down into Dean’s lap instead. “Deal,” Cas breathed against Dean’s lips.


End file.
